Meaning Of Life
by Specter
Summary: Getting tired of all those mushy song-fics? Try this one on for size... Based around Disturbed's Meaning Of Life. The story takes place at some random time in the Shelter, with Jake. (Warning! Explicit violence and language!)


Author's Note: Hi, Specter here, and I just wanna say that if you hate all those namby-pamby, mushy, romantic song-fics out there, then this is the fic for you. It's got all the cussing, violence, and general disregard for conventional morality you could possibly hope for. Enjoy.

_Get psycho, I wanna get psycho_

Jake slowed down, turning to see a troop of GOLEMs behind in the hallway behind him. They hadn't noticed him yet. Jake smile, pulled out a pistol in one hand, and a machete in the other, and then snuck down the corridor towards the cyborgs.

_Wanna get psycho_

_Run you little bitch_

_I want your power glowing, juicy flowing, red hot_

_Meaning of life_

He exploded onto the nearest GOLEM, driving the blade of the machete deep through the Pawn's shoulder. Blood spurted onto Jake's hands, and the Hunter ripped the knife out the cyborg though it's chest, taking it's ribcage with it.

_It's not enough to have a little taste_

_I want the whole damn thing_

_Now can you dig it?_

He spun around, decapitating a Bishop before it had a chance to react. Jake then stuffed his .45 into the face of a Pawn and pulled the trigger.

_Need to get psycho_

_I want to hear you say it_

_Say you want it, you need it_

_Don't wanna until we finish the show_

Finally the GOLEMs were able to react to Jake's berzerker assault, but it was already to late. Jake grabbed the face-plate of a Rook, and used the extra leverage to twist it's head around until it was nearly facing backwards.

_It's not enough, you hunger for more_

_You're one twisted little fuck_

_And now you wanna get psycho with me_

Jake dove sideways, drawing a grenade-armed Rook's line of fire across a small group of Knights. The results should be obvious.

_Decide (give in, give in, give in) decide_

He rushed the Rook, stabbing his machete though it's stomach. He lifted the GOLEM off the ground, and used the dead cyborgs as a shield against fire from it's fellows.

_Wanna get psycho_

_Scratch my itch_

_Give me your power glowing, juicy flowing, red hot_

_Meaning of life_

Jake let the dead Rook slide off of his blade, and turned his attention to a blade-armed Pawn that was charging him.

_It's not enough to have a little taste_

_I want the whole damn thing_

_Now can you dig it?_

He dove off to the side, causing the Pawn's blade to miss him completely. In return, Jake slashed the GOLEM's chest open, then pumped a full clip into the wound.

_Need to get psycho_

_I want to hear you scream_

_Tell me to take you, scare you, fuck you_

_After we finish the show._

A Knight decloaked right in front of Jake, nearly taking his head off with a slash. Jake dove under the GOLEM's legs, driving his machette into the small of the cyborg's back as he came out the other side.

_It's not enough_

_You listening whore_

_You're on twisted little fuck_

_And now you wanna get psycho with me_

Jake rolled onto his feet, throwing the knife as he did. The machette lodged itself in the throat of a Bishop that was coming to the aid of his fellow cloaking GOLEM. Jake rushed to the falling cyborg and ripped the blade out, taking most of the artificial soldier's neck with it.

_I can feel the blood flowing though my viens spilling on my soul_

_And now the hunger's getting bigger_

_Come a little closer now pretentious whore and pull my trigger_

_Free the violence that is building in me_

He tackled a Pawn GOLEM, forcing the cyborg to the ground. He slashed it's plasma-blade arm off, and threw the device at a nearby Knight.

_I say the end of the ride murder suicide is how I've been feeling lately_

_Come a little closer now pretentious whore,_

_I'm reeling with a feeling that I can't ignore_

Jake ripped the breathing mask of the Pawn off, exposing it's face. The GOLEM gagged at the unsterilized air, and Jake pressed his gun to it's forehead.

_And the need to get psycho_

_Is not a question to me_

Jake surveyed the distruction surrounding him. No less than twenty GOLEMs lay in various stagest of dimemberment. A good day's work.


End file.
